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There's a rose bush in the garden |
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Been there since I was born |
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That celebrates its age without fear |
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I touch the velvet petals |
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And smell the breath of angels |
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And pick the purple roses every year |
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Now you think you're passed your prime my sweet woman |
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Your use-by date is faded and grey |
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But sad and sorry thoughts like that my darlin' |
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Is throwin' purple roses away |
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You're tired of pretending that you're younger |
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When gravity is real and here to stay |
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So you wear your clothes more easily for comfort |
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You used to be too skinny anyway |
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Now you're looking in the mirror |
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A picture of your Mother |
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But you don't see the woman that I see |
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Denying grace and pride the good Lord gave you |
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Is throwin' purple roses away |
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Yeah, sad and sorry thoughts like that my darlin' |
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Is throwin' purple roses away |
